 | Otuel and Roland |  |
Charlys hys ost gan oute lede,
And comyn to Sadrak, so y rede,
that ys a fayre watyr & Clere,
Two myle from saragone.
Belyngas, thay fownde sone,
that was wel stoute, and fere,
Off Percy the Ryche sowdan,
that hyȝt syre Perygan.
ne wust nower hys per!
And also many a paynym,
that were bothe stoute & grym,
And of swythe gret power.
And comyn to Sadrak, so y rede,
that ys a fayre watyr & Clere,
Two myle from saragone.
Belyngas, thay fownde sone,
that was wel stoute, and fere,
Off Percy the Ryche sowdan,
that hyȝt syre Perygan.
ne wust nower hys per!
And also many a paynym,
that were bothe stoute & grym,
And of swythe gret power.
Too thowsand of Percyans,
And also fele affricans,
thay browten to the feld.
Off Babyloyn the sowdan,
he brouȝt with hym many a man,
with spere, swerde, and schylde.
Syxty thowsand and mo,
he brouȝt with hym tho,
Thus turpyn hath ous told.
Two hundred of percy,
Charlys ne hadde but thyrty,
Off knyȝtes that were bold.
And also fele affricans,
thay browten to the feld.
Off Babyloyn the sowdan,
he brouȝt with hym many a man,
with spere, swerde, and schylde.
Syxty thowsand and mo,
he brouȝt with hym tho,
Thus turpyn hath ous told.
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Charlys ne hadde but thyrty,
Off knyȝtes that were bold.
To batayle thay were boune,
Bothe with spere and gomphanoune,
And fast thay gonne to fyȝt.
Syre turpyn and charlyoun,
with here gode swerde broun,
hewyn on the helmes bryȝt.
Many a paynym there fyl a-doun,
That weren of swythe gret renoun,
longe er it were nyȝt.
Otuel tho with hys fauchoun,
And the gode duk hugoun,
A man of muche myȝt,
Bothe with spere and gomphanoune,
And fast thay gonne to fyȝt.
Syre turpyn and charlyoun,
with here gode swerde broun,
hewyn on the helmes bryȝt.
Many a paynym there fyl a-doun,
That weren of swythe gret renoun,
longe er it were nyȝt.
Otuel tho with hys fauchoun,
And the gode duk hugoun,
A man of muche myȝt,
In the fyrst batayle
The saudan they gonne assayle,
Of percy, that hyȝt perigoun.
Syre otuel smot hym tho,
That euene he cleft hym ato,
Syker bothe hors and man.
Byschop turpyn with hys spere,
To belyngans he gan it bere,
That thoruȝ hys body it ran:
There-whyle the kyng charlyoun
Slow with hys fauchoun
Off babylone the sawdan.
The saudan they gonne assayle,
Of percy, that hyȝt perigoun.
Syre otuel smot hym tho,
That euene he cleft hym ato,
Syker bothe hors and man.
Byschop turpyn with hys spere,
To belyngans he gan it bere,
That thoruȝ hys body it ran:
There-whyle the kyng charlyoun
Slow with hys fauchoun
Off babylone the sawdan.
Tho turpyn was by-set,
As a der in the net,
There a-mong the paynemes,
And neyȝ y-slawe that stounde,
And hadde many a wounde,
Of the falce sarsins.
Off strokes hard and sore,
Turpyn suffred thare,
Off godys wytherlynges.
And turpyn and tybaut
Made a swythe noble sauȝt,
To slen the fyndes lemes.
As a der in the net,
There a-mong the paynemes,
And neyȝ y-slawe that stounde,
And hadde many a wounde,
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Off strokes hard and sore,
Turpyn suffred thare,
Off godys wytherlynges.
And turpyn and tybaut
Made a swythe noble sauȝt,
To slen the fyndes lemes.
Thay and here ost fauȝten so,
That syxty thousand and mo
Suffred there dedes wounde.
Grete peple thay gonne sle:
And wenten fele in-to the se,
ffor drede of deth that stounde.
No sarsin, syker a-plyȝt,
ffrom that Batayle skapyn myȝt,
That owher myȝt be founde.
Alle they were y-slawe,
And y-brouȝt of here lyue-dawe,
There vppon the grounde.
That syxty thousand and mo
Suffred there dedes wounde.
Grete peple thay gonne sle:
And wenten fele in-to the se,
ffor drede of deth that stounde.
No sarsin, syker a-plyȝt,
ffrom that Batayle skapyn myȝt,
That owher myȝt be founde.
Alle they were y-slawe,
And y-brouȝt of here lyue-dawe,
There vppon the grounde.
And euer schon the sonne bryȝt,
To ȝeue kyng charlys lyȝt,
In that fayre fyrmement,
Thre dayes of mowntans ryȝt,
tylle he hadde y-wonne the fyȝt,
thoruȝ grace that god hym sent.
And he slowe alle hys Enemys,
And worschyplyche he wan the pris,
wyth swythe gode entent.
the kyng was tho glad & blythe,
and thonked god many sythe,
for the grace that he had hym sent.
To ȝeue kyng charlys lyȝt,
In that fayre fyrmement,
Thre dayes of mowntans ryȝt,
tylle he hadde y-wonne the fyȝt,
thoruȝ grace that god hym sent.
And he slowe alle hys Enemys,
And worschyplyche he wan the pris,
wyth swythe gode entent.
the kyng was tho glad & blythe,
and thonked god many sythe,
for the grace that he had hym sent.
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Anon there-aftyr, he toke the way,
ther that Rowlandys body lay,
and with hym many a knyȝt.
“for-sothe,” sayd Turpyn & Turry,
“Gwynes hath made thys sekerly,
And thys fals tresoun hath dyȝt.”
tho the kyng Charlyoun
Commawndyd swythe anone,
to brynge hym forthe anon-ryȝt.
Terry to hym anone forthe wonde,
And of the deth of Rowlond,
he hym with-clepyd aplyȝt,
ther that Rowlandys body lay,
and with hym many a knyȝt.
“for-sothe,” sayd Turpyn & Turry,
“Gwynes hath made thys sekerly,
And thys fals tresoun hath dyȝt.”
tho the kyng Charlyoun
Commawndyd swythe anone,
to brynge hym forthe anon-ryȝt.
Terry to hym anone forthe wonde,
And of the deth of Rowlond,
he hym with-clepyd aplyȝt,
And sayde, “thorugh thy false tresoun
Many a gode lorde ys brouȝt adown,
And hathe suffryd dedes wownde.”
Gwynes sayd, “nay,
thowe lyxt falsly by thys day,
And that schall be well y-fownde,
thy body anone-ryȝtys to myn!
Arme the anon wel afyn!
And y wyth a spere y-grownde,
But y me defende,
y grawnt, so god me amende,
Be honged and drawe thys stownde.”
Many a gode lorde ys brouȝt adown,
And hathe suffryd dedes wownde.”
Gwynes sayd, “nay,
thowe lyxt falsly by thys day,
And that schall be well y-fownde,
thy body anone-ryȝtys to myn!
Arme the anon wel afyn!
And y wyth a spere y-grownde,
But y me defende,
y grawnt, so god me amende,
Be honged and drawe thys stownde.”
Anone Turry, the gode knyȝt,
Armed hym wel aplyȝt,
And Gwynes dude also.
thay come bothe into the felde,
Bothe with spere & with schelde.
to-gedyr thay reden tho.
Gwynes smote turry,
that hys schylde sykerly
Euene Clef a-too.
Turpyn & Charlys the kyng,
Bothe thay say that fyȝtyng.
In hert hem was ful wo!
Armed hym wel aplyȝt,
And Gwynes dude also.
thay come bothe into the felde,
Bothe with spere & with schelde.
to-gedyr thay reden tho.
Gwynes smote turry,
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Euene Clef a-too.
Turpyn & Charlys the kyng,
Bothe thay say that fyȝtyng.
In hert hem was ful wo!
But Turry with hys half Schylde,
To Gwynes rod in the felde,
with a grete Rawndoun.
he ȝafe the Traytour suche a wownde
that down he fel to grownde,
wyth Crystys Malysoun.
ther the traytour was ouercome,
And swythe anone he was y-nome.
By the hest of Charlyoun.
And ther he was by-knowe,
By-fore heye & eke lowe,
Of that ylke false tresoun,—
To Gwynes rod in the felde,
with a grete Rawndoun.
he ȝafe the Traytour suche a wownde
that down he fel to grownde,
wyth Crystys Malysoun.
ther the traytour was ouercome,
And swythe anone he was y-nome.
By the hest of Charlyoun.
And ther he was by-knowe,
By-fore heye & eke lowe,
Of that ylke false tresoun,—
the Crystyn, howe he solde
for thrytty somers of golde
to her enomys.
“for-sothe,” sayd Charlys, “hyt ys the lawe
That thow be honged an drawe,
By crist and sent denys.”
he tolde that mansure and belygans,
how thay schulde haue come in-to fraunce,
And haue y-wone the prys,
And haue y-slaw kyng charlys,
Turpyn, and alle hys barounes,
Ryȝt at here dyuys.
for thrytty somers of golde
to her enomys.
“for-sothe,” sayd Charlys, “hyt ys the lawe
That thow be honged an drawe,
By crist and sent denys.”
he tolde that mansure and belygans,
how thay schulde haue come in-to fraunce,
And haue y-wone the prys,
And haue y-slaw kyng charlys,
Turpyn, and alle hys barounes,
Ryȝt at here dyuys.
Tho by the heste of charlys the kyng,
The traytour was don to hongyng,
And was y-drawe thoruȝ the toun,
And after y-honged wel faste.
ffor-sothe tho in haste,
Alle quyk he was leten doun,
And y-bounde to a stake,
And hys bowels out y-take,
To brenne hym by-forn.
To foure stedys he was y-knyt,
By the hondys and by the fet,
At the heste of charlyoun:
The traytour was don to hongyng,
And was y-drawe thoruȝ the toun,
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ffor-sothe tho in haste,
Alle quyk he was leten doun,
And y-bounde to a stake,
And hys bowels out y-take,
To brenne hym by-forn.
To foure stedys he was y-knyt,
By the hondys and by the fet,
At the heste of charlyoun:
On eche stede sat a knyȝt,
And thus he was to-twyt,
Gwynes, the falce traytour.
ffor-sothe, hit were skele and ryȝt
That euerych traytour were so y-dyȝt,
And hadde muche myssaunter.
Charlys tok hys knyȝtes,
And went to roulond a-none-ryȝtes
with Swythe gret dolour.
Roulondys body he let dyȝt,
with murre and baune a-none-ryȝt,
with swythe good odour.
And thus he was to-twyt,
Gwynes, the falce traytour.
ffor-sothe, hit were skele and ryȝt
That euerych traytour were so y-dyȝt,
And hadde muche myssaunter.
Charlys tok hys knyȝtes,
And went to roulond a-none-ryȝtes
with Swythe gret dolour.
Roulondys body he let dyȝt,
with murre and baune a-none-ryȝt,
with swythe good odour.
Bothe roulond, & olyuer,
And euerych of the dussyper
with baune weren y-dyȝt.
Of some with-oute fayle,
Men duden out the entrayle,
And in lede layde hem a-ryȝt.
And tho that weren nouȝt so,
fful wel in salt men dude hem do,
To be swete bothe day & nyȝt.
Thus thay weren dyȝt a-none,—
wel ynoynted euerychone,—
with-outen any vnryȝt.
Thus charlys doth, that ys so hende,
To bryng hys knyȝtes to good ende,
ffor-sothe as hym thouȝt best.
Other lordys that weren there,
Men layde hem on hors bere,
And [they] were rychelyche brouȝt in cheste.
And euerych of the dussyper
with baune weren y-dyȝt.
Of some with-oute fayle,
Men duden out the entrayle,
And in lede layde hem a-ryȝt.
And tho that weren nouȝt so,
fful wel in salt men dude hem do,
To be swete bothe day & nyȝt.
Thus thay weren dyȝt a-none,—
wel ynoynted euerychone,—
with-outen any vnryȝt.
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To bryng hys knyȝtes to good ende,
ffor-sothe as hym thouȝt best.
Other lordys that weren there,
Men layde hem on hors bere,
And [they] were rychelyche brouȝt in cheste.
Charlys by-syde runcyvale
lete rere a chyrche good with alle,
ffor hem to rede and syng.
Now ihesu crist in trinite,
O god and persones thre,
To ioye and blysse ous bryng!
Here endeth otuel, Roulond, & Olyuer,
And off the twelf dussypers,
That deyden in the batayle off Runcyvale.
Ihesu Lord, heuene kyng,
To hys blysse ous and hem bothe bryng,
To Leuen wyth-oute bale. Amen. quod I. [Gage].
lete rere a chyrche good with alle,
ffor hem to rede and syng.
Now ihesu crist in trinite,
O god and persones thre,
To ioye and blysse ous bryng!
Here endeth otuel, Roulond, & Olyuer,
And off the twelf dussypers,
That deyden in the batayle off Runcyvale.
Ihesu Lord, heuene kyng,
To hys blysse ous and hem bothe bryng,
To Leuen wyth-oute bale. Amen. quod I. [Gage].
| Otuel and Roland | |